The Deception
by jambled
Summary: We know Theresa found out about Kirsten's abortion. What if she told Ryan, and he asked Sandy about it, thinking he knew...? Updated and Finit.
1. First

_So we know Theresa's baby lived, but what if she was still giving Ryan the miscarriage façade? Just go with it –please. There's more angst this way! What can I say, I'm an angst-whore. Enjoy, and please review! Thanks._

Sandy was sitting on the patio, watching the ocean twirl and heave far below. Off shore winds gave waves an extra foot at least. He considered getting his board out, cleaning the dust off it and going down to try his luck. Just as quickly, he vetoed the idea. He wanted to wait for Ryan to get home, see how his day went. Reluctantly, he and Kirsten had allowed him to take the car to Chino to see Dawn. She'd proclaimed herself sober and requested a visit. Sandy doubted that she was on the wagon, but he wasn't going to stop her son from seeing her. It was just the fallout he was worried about, if she wasn't sober, if she said something to Ryan to make him doubt his college application. He was going to be the only Atwood to graduate high school, and he found that daunting enough. Sandy had needed to give him some encouragement before he even considered filling out an application form for college.

Sandy heard the front door open and close, then bottles in the fridge shaking as Ryan dug around for a drink.

"Hey," Ryan walked out onto the deck and dropped his back pack beside the chair next to Sandy that he sank into. He took a long swallow from his water bottle.

"Hey, how was your day?" Sandy put down his coffee, turned to face Ryan.

"Yeah, it was okay. Dawn… She just wanted money. That and to show me off to her latest boyfriend. The only Atwood she knew of that was applying for college. She didn't think I'd get in, but she said she was proud I made the effort to fill out all their forms." Ryan's voice bittered towards the end of his sentence, and Sandy could tell Dawn had got to him.

"You know you've got a great chance of getting into your first college choice. Grades like yours…" Ryan looked across, smiled at Sandy, assuring him that he knew he was better than where he'd come from.

There was comfortable silence between them for a moment, broken intermittently by the breeze rustling the rose bushes at the side of the house.

"So, see anyone else down there you know?" Sandy broke the silence first. He knew he was like Seth, knew he couldn't let silence drag on forever. Kirsten and Ryan could sit out on the deck for hours, not talking at all. Sandy marvelled at it.

"Yeah, I saw Theresa, actually. We had a coffee, talked for most of her lunch break. She was… She's got a new job. It's better money than the last job. She's still coming to terms with… I mean, things are never going to be the same between us since…" Sandy looked over at Ryan, saw his eyes narrowed as he scanned the ocean. He didn't blame him; being an expectant father at 16, then having that taken away again… Sandy knew he would still be thinking about it if it was him that had to make a choice like Ryan made.

"It's been a while, but… I mean, I still think about it."

"It's not something you're going to forget. And you shouldn't, either." Sandy turned away from Ryan, followed his eye line out to the blue beyond. The ocean darkened with the approaching twilight; the deep blue water bled into the horizon until it was impossible to discern one from the other.

"Have you forgotten? I mean you and Kirsten…" Ryan was the first to break the silence that stretched between them this time. Sandy looked back to him, not comprehending the sentence.

"What? Forgotten what?" Ryan's eyes met his, clouded immediately with apology.

"Sorry, I didn't mean anything… Theresa told me Kirsten had… But I guess if you didn't know." Ryan rolled his water bottle between his hands, looking everywhere but at Sandy.

"What, kid?" Sandy asked, knowing the answer was close to the subject matter, knowing he wasn't going to want to hear it. Several moments passed. Sandy couldn't breathe, feared desperately what Ryan had to say.

"Kirsten had an abortion." Sandy felt the words like a punch. He turned his face away from Ryan, not wanting him to see the effect his words had on him. Kirsten had never told him about an abortion. He wondered whether it was just Kirsten trying to make Theresa feel better, but dismissed that thought immediately. Kirsten wasn't the type to make something up like that.

"Sandy, I thought… I mean, I'd just guessed it was… Kirsten didn't tell Theresa, she just kind of guessed it… It wasn't like…" Ryan was desperately trying to make amends on his side of the table. Sandy was saved from replying by the phone ringing. He picked up the cordless he'd brought out with him.

"Hey Dad, is Ryan there?" Sandy could hear Summer in the background, giving Seth instructions. Sandy handed the phone over to Ryan, who was still looking apologetic. He took the phone inside, dragging his backpack along with him. Sandy took the time alone to lean over his legs, his face propped on his hands. He couldn't believe they'd been married twenty years and the whole time she'd been sitting on this. They'd had trouble conceiving Seth; it had taken more months than they'd thought for Kirsten to fall pregnant. Kirsten had been reluctant to see anyone about it, had persuaded Sandy that everything was fine. Sometimes, after sex, she'd curl on her side in bed, hugging her abdomen. Sandy had found tears on her face several times, had asked her what was wrong. Only once, she'd broken and told him it was her fault they weren't getting pregnant, her body that was the problem. Sandy had assumed she was just upset about how long it was taking. She was a perfectionist and, more often than not, blamed herself for most anything that went wrong. Thank you, Caleb Nichol, for bestowing on your daughter such an inferior complex, Sandy thought bitterly.

After Seth, they'd been told there couldn't be anymore children. Sandy remembered Kirsten hugging him after they'd been given the news. They'd both planned on having more children, at least three. Kirsten had asked Sandy if he could forgive her for it. Again, Sandy had assumed it was Kirsten blaming herself, as usual. He'd held her tighter, promised her it wasn't her fault, and that he was okay with it, let her tears fall down his back.

"I've gotta go, Seth needs me to take some stuff over to Summer's. And, Sandy…" Ryan faltered, unable to find an ending for his sentence.

"That's okay, Ryan. Just… Don't tell Seth, okay?"

"Of course not. No one. 'Bye, Sandy." Ryan left Sandy alone with his thoughts. Twilight had well and truly descended, and lights were beginning to appear on the hill.

Kirsten, his Kirsten, making a choice that huge. Then telling no one. Sandy was willing to bet money her father hadn't known. He was sure she wouldn't have confided to anyone else in her family. She was a very insular, private person. Sandy knew there were things she hadn't told him, but he had never considered they would be of this magnitude. Besides, secrets weren't secrets in Newport. A pregnancy being carried by the teenage daughter of the most influential and successful business man in Newport would have almost garnered a front page. Instead, Sandy had found out from his adopted son, whose ex-girlfriend had needed to make the same choice. Sandy recalled Kirsten the day after Theresa had made her decision to keep the baby. Sandy had tried to make her consider what Ryan was going through. Kirsten had identified herself with Theresa, something which Sandy had mused about for several moments after. He'd forgotten about it, with everything else that was going on, but was now remembering her emotionless 'nothing'. She'd looked right at him as she'd replied when he'd asked her what that meant; had obviously lied to his face. As emotive and crystalline as her blue eyes could be, she was an expert at deception. Sandy had guessed that this, too, was borne from Caleb. Right until the end, no one had guessed the old man had been bankrupt. Up until now, Sandy hadn't even entertained thoughts that Seth may not have been Kirsten's first child.

_To Be Continued… _

_And now for a shameless plug- if you liked this, please check out my other fics! Thanks._


	2. Truth Revealed

_This is quite a long chapter, so make yourself your drink of choice and settle in. And, as always, please review. Huge thank you to those who have reviewed so far. Enjoy._

He heard the front door open and close again, and the unmistakeable sound of Kirsten's heels coming down the hallway. He didn't heard her drop her bag and keys on the counter and imagined they were at the front door. He could hear her shuffling through the mail and getting a water bottle out of the fridge, like she did most afternoons. She turned the light on in the kitchen, and it lengthened the shadows outside.

"Oh, hey, I didn't know you were home. I thought you'd be at the office." Kirsten came up the steps to where Sandy was sitting, unopened mail and water bottle in hand.

"I thought I'd wait around, see how Ryan's day went. We talked for a while until he had to leave to get Seth."

"Hmm." Kirsten leant across to kiss Sandy. Her tongue snaked across his, her lips lingering longer than usual. It was a less chaste kiss than what he was used to and he favoured her with a look that she returned innocently as she sat down.

"So, how was his day?" Kirsten started opening envelopes, sorting bills into piles according to when they needed to be paid.

Sandy gave himself a moment to gather his thoughts, although he longed to still Kirsten's hands and force her to tell him if there was any truth to what Ryan had said. Everything Sandy remembered pointed to it being true, but he hadn't been able to accept it, that Kirsten would keep from him something this big. He knew if Rebecca and he had been required to make a decision that huge, he would have told Kirsten long ago.

"He said he saw Dawn. She asked him for money, paraded him around like a trophy because he's going to graduate high school, then told him he probably wouldn't get in to college."

"Is he okay?" Kirsten looked over to Sandy, her nails still unconsciously tearing an envelope open. Concern fringed her eyes.

"Yeah, I think so. He's a good kid. He knows he can rise above them. I just don't think Dawn can hurt him as much anymore." Kirsten nodded, resumed her mail sorting. She folded the envelopes and put them together, before stacking the bills.

"He saw Theresa." Sandy shot a glance at Kirsten, noting the lack of change. She leant back on the chair, mail sorted, and ran a hand through her hair, tousled by the activity of her day.

"How is she?" Kirsten asked. The kitchen light shimmered across each strand, catching in the soft curls and waves. She'd taken her jacket off, and she was wearing a silk shirt, cut low. Light sneaked past her hair into the curves of her collarbones, the subtle softness of her shoulders. Her face was in darkness, her voice soft and level. Sandy reached out, and her hand found his, almost by reflex. They were so attuned to each other, after all this time. Before today, Sandy would have said with confidence that he knew almost everything about Kirsten, from the brand of shampoo she used to the position she preferred in bed.

"She's still upset about losing the baby, Ryan said." Sandy let this sink in, let his fingers entwine with hers over the table. He heard Kirsten open her water bottle and take a sip.

"It would be hard. But at least she's down there with her Mom, someone to talk about it with if she needs to." Kirsten said. Sandy wanted to ask her who she had talked to. The father of the baby? A friend? Or was she completely alone.

"He asked me how I'd coped." Sandy licked his lips, knowing he needed to talk about this with her, for his own peace of mind, knowing that, even after all these years, Kirsten wouldn't want to bring it up. The fact that Theresa had guessed it, and Kirsten had affirmed her suspicious, it couldn't be too far below the surface. Sandy just didn't know how much this wound had closed.

"Coped with what?" Kirsten was still relaxed, her finger stroking a spot near his thumb that she knew he liked.

"The abortion we apparently had." Immediately Kirsten's hand stilled, was pulled away from his. He couldn't see her eyes to gauge a reaction; wasn't sure he'd trust them anyway. He could see her outline, watched her pull her feet up to her chest and wrap her arms around them. She looked out, onto the darkened ocean. Sandy let the silence stretch as long as he was able before he snapped it.

"Honey, I just think we need to talk about this." Only more silence met him from her side of the table.

"Baby…"

"It was a long time ago, Sandy. It has nothing to do with you." Her words were infused with a venom of sorts, a fierceness he wasn't expecting. She got up off the chair, walked across the patio to their room and firmly closed him out. Sandy sighed, rubbed his eyes. He should have known this would happen. He knew he needed to go in there after her, knew something like this could send her into relapse. He never should have asked her, but he couldn't look at her every day without needing to know if it was true.

Sandy walked back through to the kitchen, taking the bills with him. He placed them on the sideboard and threw the envelopes out. Leaning on the counter, Sandy stretched his back and breathed out slowly. Kirsten- an abortion. The girl who had once lived in the back of a mail truck, been able to dance all night, painted landscapes that almost brought tears to the surface with their haunting beauty… This girl had once been faced with the choice of whether her child should live or die.

Sandy heard the front door close, and almost swore. He ran out just in time to see her car pulling out of the driveway. Last time she'd taken off on him, she'd ended up in a sleazy motel with a bottle of vodka. The time before, she'd nearly been killed in a collision with a truck. Sandy felt the pit of his stomach turn to ice water. He didn't want her drowning her sorrows in a bar, didn't want the inevitable fallout; he didn't know if he could deal with her being away from him for so long again. And, the niggling thought he'd had since she'd gone directly from rehab to Charlotte's chose this point to resurface: he didn't want her to decide to never come home.

"Ryan, I need the car. Now." Sandy hung up on Ryan as quickly as he had dialled, and waited on the front stoop. He'd grabbed a jacket for Kirsten, not knowing if she had hers. The ait temperature was starting to cool in the evenings and in whatever state he found his wife, he wanted her to be warm, to know he'd thought of her, that he wasn't angry at her at all. He checked his back pockets again. Like the last time he'd checked, his keys and his wallet were still there. Sandy shifted from foot to foot, impatiently awaiting Ryan. He willed him to break speed limits to get back, because the longer it took Sandy to follow Kirsten, the better chance she had of evading him and the further away she could get.

Finally, Ryan pulled the car in, and he and Seth got out. Sandy almost pushed Ryan out of the way to get into the driver's seat.

"Wha-?" Ryan started.

"Did you pass Kirsten on the way here?" Sandy asked. He saw Ryan shake his head, saw his thoughts start to leap ahead to a conclusion that would possibly drown him in guilt if anything happened to Kirsten.

"No, Dad. Only some fake tanners in a jeep." Seth was, as usual, oblivious to the tension that heightened the air around him.

"Stay next to the phone," Sandy said, before pulling out of the drive.

"Well, that was different. I wonder who's calling. So, you want to play some Kong? I'm thinking-."

"Seth, you need to call Summer. We need her car."

"What, dude, we just left there." Ryan almost clenched his fists as Seth continued to be obtuse.

"Seth, call her." Reluctantly, Seth pulled out his phone. His conversation was peppered with a lot of 'I don't know'ing, and he hung up, shooting a baleful glance at Ryan.

"She'll be here in ten. What's the problem?" Ryan couldn't restrict himself to staying in the same spot. He was feeling nauseous and snakes of fear coiled along his spine. He knew he couldn't tell Seth anything about what he thought might have happened; that Sandy had asked Kirsten about the abortion, and that she'd fled into the night. It was because of him, because he hadn't been able to keep his mouth shut and stay out of business that wasn't his, that Sandy had called her on it, and she'd done her vanishing act. He knew Sandy was thinking of her relapse. He was thinking the same thing. He knew, too, that Sandy couldn't handle another summer without her. Much as they wouldn't admit it, he and Seth couldn't handle an all-male household for another three months, either. She was the main source of light in the house; an impossible lamp that lit up every room she entered.

"Ryan, what's going on?" Seth tried again, and Ryan turned to face him.

"I think Sandy and Kirsten had a fight, and now Kirsten's gone." Seth visibly paled, slumped against a stone pillar. He knew the underlying theme of Ryan's words; the worst that they all thought when Kirsten looked as if she'd had a bad day and came home to reach in the fridge. She'd pulled out juice or water every time, since all alcohol had been banished from the house since the intervention, but Ryan knew they were all wondering what they'd do if she ever pulled out a vodka bottle.

"She'll be okay, right? I mean…" Seth trailed off, sensing Ryan couldn't give him the sense of false security he needed. Ryan continued pacing, looking down the driveway to check for approaching headlights. He'd tried calling Kirsten's phone, but it was switched off. He'd left her two messages, and hung up the rest of the time her voice mail kicked in. He felt useless minutes ticking past, and started walking down the driveway. He just needed to do something. It was all his fault she was gone. If he hadn't said anything to Sandy… If he'd minded his own business…

"Dude, wait up." Caught up in his own thoughts, Seth hadn't noticed Ryan leave until he'd skulked half the way down to the road. Ryan heard Seth's footsteps clatter behind him at the same time as Summer's car came to a stop outside the driveway. They both jogged down to her and jumped in.

"What's going on?" She demanded. Despite the cool weather, the top was down, and she had End of Fashion playing. Seth reached out and turned it down before speaking.

"Mom and Dad had a fight."

"And now Kirsten's gone." Ryan interjected as he leant forward in the back seat, wanting to hurry up the proceedings.

"We have to look for her." Seth said, turning to stare out his side of the car. Summer shrugged, turned the car around.

"So, where should we check first. I mean, does she go to bars anymore if she can't drink?" Summer was oblivious to the look Seth and Ryan traded, both hoping she wasn't at a bar. To Summer, it was as if there was a wall blocking Kirsten from alcohol, as if even if she wanted to drink, she couldn't. Ryan knew all too well this wasn't the case, and that if Kirsten wanted to drink again she could.

"Try along the strip, then we'll drive past Julie's." Seth pointed as he spoke, along the main drag that separated the vehicular traffic of Newport from the foot traffic along the sidewalk and the silky shores of the far-stretching beach. Summer stopped at the corner, and they all looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of a blonde head, a black SUV they recognised. After three false pointings as they were waiting at the traffic light, Summer sighed in frustration. "Why the hell does everyone need to drive a black SUV?" She demanded, irritation causing her to floor the car as the light finally turned green. Seth and Ryan barely noticed the car screech around the corner, instead intent on finding Kirsten, hopefully unharmed and completely sober.

Ryan's phone rang, and he checked the display as he picked up.

"Sandy, we're out looking too… We're driving along the strip… Okay, well we'll check Julie's next… Okay, we'll do west. 'Bye." Seth's eyes found his, and Ryan shook his head imperceptively. Seth pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, hit a number on speed dial.

"Mom, it's me. Can you give us a call and tell us that you're… That you're okay." Seth's voice cracked towards the end of the message, and Summer sought his hand out, gave it a squeeze.

"To Julie's?" Summer asked. Seth nodded, and she made a turn at the end of the strip, started driving towards the grittier end of town. Drawing towards the trailer park the Cooper's lived in, Summer slowed. There were no SUVs in sight. Faint blue light from televisions flickered behind tattered curtains, but there was no evidence that Kirsten was here, or that she'd ever been.

"Should we ask?" Summer said. Seth shook his head.

"No time," Ryan said, before following with, "I told Sandy we'd check the bars on the west side. He's taking the east." Summer nodded, drove away from the depressing trailer park, towards swankier surroundings.

Sandy had been looking around bar parking lots, and calling the Newpsies on his cell at the same time. It was unlikely Kirsten would find solace with any of them, but he felt better for checking. He rang Julie, knowing the kids had already been past there, needing to find out for himself. Julie hadn't seen Kirsten since the morning, when they'd met about a client. Sandy didn't bother to make up a lie about why he was trying to find Kirsten, instead hanging up on Julie's questions.

He was getting more frantic by the minute, images of Kirsten in hospital or curled, drunk, in a corner somewhere were taunting him, flashing intermittently between glare from the street lights. For what felt like the fiftieth time, Sand hit the speed number that called Kirsten. Again, she sounded vaguely cheery on her voicemail, asking him to leave a message and that she'd get back to him. He hoped that was true.

Sandy pulled into the parking lot of the first bar, first checking the parking lot before traipsing into the smoky atmosphere to see if she was there, considering a martini, wondering whether to make the leap from sobriety into something that was much covered territory, and much darker for them all.

Inside, Sandy slowly walked around, hoping for a glimpse of a blue silk singlet, softly tousled blonde hair. Instead, he was greeted with questioning stares, unfriendly looks, apathy. It continued this way for the next twelve bars he checked. And the following twelve. Her car, absent from the lot. Her face, not found amongst the crowd. And Sandy, getting more scared, smelling more like cigarette smoke. He called Ryan again, got the update that there was nothing to be updated on. Kirsten was still missing.


	3. Coming Home

Kirsten sat on the bonnet of the car, hugging her knees. The hood was warm under her, the salty ocean breeze cool. Goosebumps rose on her skin, prickling the back of her neck. She could see a ship, almost beyond her sight. The light faintly blinking, making its way slowly across the horizon. She shivered, the hood cooling, the breeze turning to a wind that ruffled her hair and brought the smell of salt, brine ridden and heavy. She'd turned her phone off, knowing she shouldn't, knowing she was making Sandy crazy, taunting him with thoughts of what she might do. He'd been treating her like a china doll since rehab, a beautiful pristine object that could, with the slightest pressure, shatter. She'd tried to prove she was fine, tried to tell him she wasn't as fragile as he thought, but, being Sandy, he wouldn't listen. Kirsten smiled into the wind, feeling it magnify the feeling of her tears running down her cheeks, drying them into salty patterns on her skin. She loved him. She'd hated that he knew about the baby, about her biggest degradation. Hated that he'd think of her differently. Hated that she'd never told him. Hated that he had to find out the way he did, and that he was waiting with unanswered questions, questions that would bring her guilt to the surface like a rising tide. She knew she had to tell him everything. She couldn't stand that he'd hold it over her, need to know, have questions hovering too close to the surface all the time. She couldn't stand looking in his eyes to see the doubt she knew she'd find. Doubt about the truthfulness of other statements she'd made, other things she'd told him that he assumed to be factual.

Kirsten leant back against the windscreen, huddling, trying to keep herself warm. She could feel her teeth start to chatter, could no longer stem the involuntary shivers that wracked her. She could hear the ocean swell picking up, the eerie sound of waves she couldn't see pounding hard packed sand.

Kirsten looked for the ship she'd seen earlier; it had vanished in the mist that was beginning to roll in. The coolness of the swirling water vapour was intensified by the biting wind. Kirsten enjoyed the cool, revelled in the way it made her numb on the outside. Inside, she felt empty, as if the abortion had only occurred last week. It was a scar that had never properly healed from her body, denying she and Sandy any more children. It was a scar that had always been in her mind, mainly constrained to a dull ache but prone to being reopened. First by Theresa, wanting to prove Kirsten's life as perfect. Kirsten had told her she didn't regret it, hadn't been sure she'd been entirely truthful, hadn't wanted to fall apart in the middle of the restaurant. She regretted that it happened; that Jimmy had been so insistent, that she'd been so drunk they hadn't used a condom. She regretted being part of the most powerful and, on the surface perfect, family in Newport, knowing that this meant she was unsupported in anything that didn't meet Caleb's approval. She regretted wanting to hide it from the world and using a second rate abortion clinic that didn't quite do things by the book, but who also didn't ask too many questions or attach it to her medical records if she'd paid enough. She regretted the loss of a life that she'd helped create. She regretted the way she'd hidden it from Sandy.

Kirsten leant into her arms and sobbed quietly. Her hair swirled around her head in the breeze, random tendrils tickling her back. Her tears dried too quickly, and her nails turned blue in the cold. Finally, knowing this wasn't getting her anywhere, knowing she was worrying Sandy and only delaying what was inevitable, Kirsten got off the bonnet. She stood a moment beside the car, arms still encircling her wind numbed body. The mist had continued onwards, leaving the ocean clear again. On the horizon, the single light twinkled, brighter.

Kirsten took a last, deep breath of the chilled air before she got back in the car. She started the engine, turned the heater on, sat for a moment again. She had to go home and tell Sandy. Her time for drowning reality in endless amounts of vodka was over. She wasn't going to drink again, wasn't going to do anything that would take her away from her family again. Wasn't going to numb the pain.

Kirsten drove out of the small parking bay. She waited at the first traffic light, eyes firmly ahead, tears hidden behind tinted windows. While she was waiting, she turned her phone back on. Sixteen new messages greeted her, and Kirsten listened to all of them. First, Sandy, Sandy again. Ryan asked her to call him twice, and Seth wanted to know she was okay. The jaws of guilt firmly took hold. Their voices grew more frantic with each phone call, their worry intensifying.

It seemed like it took her an age to drive back up the familiar driveway. Sandy's car was gone, as she knew it would be. She felt the guilt gnawing at her. She knew he'd be frantic, be searching bars, be thinking the worst.

Kirsten walking into the empty, echoing house, dropping her keys at the front door and her bag in the kitchen. She grabbed the house phone, and called Ryan first. She knew he and Seth were together, knew, and held no blame to him, for being the catalyst for Sandy's new knowledge. She wanted to let him know that first. She knew he'd been hurt by one mother already today, she didn't want to be the second.

He answered on the first ring. "Ryan, it's me." There was a beat before he responded, questioning how she was.

"I'm fine. I'm home. I'm sorry." His apologies rang loud in her ear before she could stop him, as if her request for forgiveness suddenly opened a floodgate of his guilt.

"It's not your fault, you didn't know. I don't blame you. I've got to call Sandy." Kirsten cut the phone call short, knowing Sandy needed to be home with her. It was time for her to tell him a truth that had been living with her for over twenty years. She dialled his number with numbed fingers. He, too, picked up on the first ring, slightly breathless, considerably worried.

"It's me. I'm at home."

"I'll be there." He was the first to hang up on her, and she imagined him racing home through the windy night. Kirsten carefully put the phone back in its cradle and saw her hand shaking from the cold. She left the empty kitchen, backtracking her steps of the afternoon towards their room. Instead of using it as an escape route, she was intent of having a shower, dressing in something warm and firmly staying put, waiting for Sandy.

Ryan's phone rang in the car, and he checked the display. Sandy.

"Did you hear from Kirsten?" He answered with, receiving an affirmative reply.

"She sounds okay but…" Sandy's worry stretched over the line, reaching Ryan through radio waves.

"We can stay at Summer's for a while if you think you need to talk to her alone?" Ryan asked. A beat of silence ensued while Sandy considered it.

"I'll call you later tonight. Just tell Seth everything's fine, and his parents want some private time. That'll make him stop asking questions." Despite the residual worry he still felt, Ryan smiled.

"Okay, talk to you later." He flipped the phone shut, and Seth turned around.

"Guess we're staying at Summer's for a while, right?" He made no excuse for the fact that he'd been shamelessly eavesdropping.

"Your dad says Kirsten's fine. They need some private time. He'll call us later."

"Oh, great, the post-coital come-home call. Can they get any grosser." Disgusted, Seth stared ahead. Summer gave him a hit with the hand that wasn't steering.

"Cohen! Be happy they're making up. Besides, don't knock make-up sex." Seth looked towards her, smiled.

"You know, we haven't fought in a while, actually…"


	4. The Finish

_Written to the tune of the incredible cd: Elan – Street Child._

Sandy walked into the house, exhausted. He walked straight to the bedroom, was met by the sound of the shower. He walked straight into the bathroom, not bothering to kick off his shoes.

"Honey?" He said as he walked in. Kirsten opened the shower door, looked out at him. Her eyes were bloodshot, but she was standing steady, and her words, when she spoke, sounded normal.

"Hey," she said softly, pulling him in for a soft kiss. Her breath was sweet, and alcohol free. "I'm so sorry to make you worry." She shut the shower off, and Sandy held a towel out, wrapped her in it, rubbed her arms.

"I'll go make us some coffee," he said, knowing he needed something to keep him awake. Keeping up an outrageous level of worry, as well as traipsing through too many alternatively sleazy and stylish bars had fatigued him. Kirsten followed him to the bedroom, where she started to dress. She knew the coffee was to keep them awake, knew the questions were coming, if she chose to answer them. She couldn't bear to drag it out any longer. This had been a questionnaire twenty years in the making.

Sandy poured out two cups of coffee and walked to their room. Kirsten was curled up on her side of the bed, newly washed hair spread out on the pillow, illuminated by Sandy's lamp, which threw a muted glow around the room. She was wearing long, white silk pants and a Berkeley jumper of Sandy's. He knew she wore his clothes when she was upset, had missed this sweatshirt when she went to Suriak. Of course, not as much as he missed the wearer.

"Honey, I brought you coffee." Sandy held the coffee down out, and Kirsten slowly pulled herself up to a sitting position so she could take it. Her thin fingers wrapped around the mug, oblivious to its heat.

"I'm sorry. If you don't want to talk about it…" Sandy perched himself beside Kirsten on the bed, one hand holding his coffee, the other draped over her knees. Kirsten shook her head, her eyes filled with tears yet to be shed without being blown away easily by the wind.

"It's… I just know I should've told you… But it just never came up, Sandy, I'm sorry." Her voice was pleading with him to understand her position. Sandy knew there were countless times, through her pregnancy with Seth, his birth, that Kirsten could have said something. He knew, too, that something like this was probably hard to think about, harder to mention. Sandy let the moment stretch out, uninclined to speak. He didn't know what to say to something like this. Kirsten was obviously still hurting about it, and there was nothing he could do.

Kirsten took a sip of coffee before she set it down.

"We should have talked about this a long time ago, I know. You finding out off Ryan is… I'm sorry for that." Kirsten leant forward, her hands capturing Sandy's. Sandy put his own mug down, and Kirsten moved over and pulled him on the bed beside her more fully.

"How old were you?" Sandy asked.

"Seventeen." Kirsten flicked her eyes up to him, waiting for judgement. Sandy remembered back to when they were still dating, not yet engaged. They'd talked about whom else they'd slept with, and when they'd lost their virginity. Sandy had been seventeen, and it had been Rebecca. Kirsten had been eighteen, and it had been Jimmy. So she said.

Sandy waited her out, not wanting to stop her.

"It was so hard… Choosing. I was still in high school. My Mom had started drinking the year before, was trying to stop. She didn't need something like that dropped on her. Hailey was only eight. Dad… Well, he was adamant I was still his innocent little girl, that he had the perfect daughter." Kirsten shivered, and Sandy pulled her closer to him, one arm encircling her, the other hand held by both hers.

"The father?" Sandy asked gently. Kirsten sighed shakily.

"Jimmy. I told him as soon as I knew. He couldn't handle it. He was scared my Dad would find out, hate him. Scared his parents would find out, cut off his allowance. He told me to take care of it, tell him when I was back to… normal." Kirsten reached up to wipe her eyes, and Sandy felt fire in his stomach, growing anger at Jimmy's cowardice, and his abandonment of Kirsten's feelings.

"I waited as long as I could, before I knew there was no way I could keep the baby. Having an abortion… That made the most sense. I told Dad I was going to New York for a shopping trip with a few friends. I flew over alone, stayed in the apartment we used to have over there and…" Kirsten trailed off, and Sandy felt her start sobbing. She leant into his chest, mascara tears staining his shirt. Sandy leant down, kissed the top of her head, brushed her hair back from her face. Blue eyes looked up at him, captured his soul with their raw and aching pain. Sandy moved, lay down on the bed. Kirsten propped her head in the crook of his shoulder. Unconsciously, one of her hands had moved to her stomach. Sandy moved his arm so he could lace his fingers with hers. They stayed that way, Kirsten's body stretched out along Sandy's, the scent from her hair wafting up towards him. Eventually, Kirsten started talking again.

"It hurt so much. I cried for days afterwards. I… I don't regret the choice I made. But I just wish… Someone had been there I could talk to. Jimmy didn't want to know about it. Mom was getting better, so I didn't want to upset her. I guess I just tried to forget. But something like that…" Kirsten drew a shaky breath, and Sandy drew her closer, remembered telling Ryan he shouldn't forget his own child that he'd lost. Kirsten's was a loss of choice, of convenience, but Sandy didn't doubt that it had played on her conscience more than several times since her trip to New York.

"Before I decided… I had names picked out." Kirsten's voice was quieter, her breathing slowing. Sandy brushed a arbitrary strand of silken blonde from her forehead, felt her pain solidly within himself. She'd been seventeen, picking names out for a child that wouldn't, couldn't, live.

"Katy, for a girl." Sandy had to strain to hear her, her voice growing fainter, slipping away as sleep captured her.

"And for a boy…" Sandy leant forward to her, his eyes looking at her smooth cheek, draped in light, his nose entranced by her smell, newly washed and as fresh as a perfect white flower.

"Ryan…" Kirsten snuggled into him, pulling his hand closer to her stomach, her fingers warming in his. Sandy lay with her, watching the rise and fall of her chest beneath his sweater, the easing of her brow, succumbing to the peacefulness of slumber. He didn't want to leave this moment, this truthfulness between them, but he knew he needed to call the Ryan she'd ended up with, and tell him it was time to come home.

Finit.

_Hope you liked. _

_This last chapter was so hard to write! What kind of conversation comes from an event like this? I deleted and rewrote so many times… Hope the end product is what you all hoped. As always, thanks for the reviews!_


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